


(i love it when we're) cruisin' together

by ohmygodwhy



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-The Heroes of Olympus, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, ignoring toa.....all of it, it's about the yearning......
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-11 23:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19936258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmygodwhy/pseuds/ohmygodwhy
Summary: “Actually, I was um,” Nico starts, and stops, and starts again, “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”“Come with you?” Jason repeats, blinking in surprise.“To Italy,” Nico clarifies, just in case Jason didn’t follow. Nice of him, Jason thinks, because his brain hasn’t quite gotten the memo that Nico’s standing in his cabin, asking him to go to Italy with him.(aka: jason & nico's poorly planned road trip and jason's bi awakening, all in one)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay. it's been a HOT minute since i've touched this wip and even these characters, but. i miss jasico hours have been taking their toll and i lost control. this had abt 2k words when i came back to it and now it's long enough to split into 2 chapters.......
> 
> i'll admit i didn't do as much research as i prob should have, bc i've been to paris but not italy, but i figured. one european country and youve seen them all and the dialogue is more important than realism so!! i just want to go on a road trip with my gf and it shows.......this is so self-indulgent it's kind of embarrassing but just take it from me

“You’re going where?” Jason asks.

Nico stands in front of him, arms folded across his chest. Jason closes the book he’s reading, keeping his finger in the crease to hold his place.  
  
“Italy,” Nico repeats, all calm and reasonable.  
  
“Okay. Any particular reason?”  
  
“Yeah,” he says, and doesn’t elaborate.  
  
Jason nods, because if he doesn’t wanna explain himself he’s not going to, and that’s all there is to it.  
  
“Italy, huh? You ever been before?”  
  
“I was born there, Jason.”  
  
“I mean since then,” he laughs.  
  
Nico smiles just a bit, a wisp of a thing. It still makes Jason’s heart feel warm. “Yeah, once or twice, but I’ve never—well never where I’m going now.”  
  
He doesn’t wanna tell him, then, Jason guesses. That’s fine, no need to push.  
  
“Thanks for telling me,” he says honestly.  
  
Nico glances away, picking at his hands the way he does when he’s embarrassed, “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t want you to freak out like last time.”  
  
“I didn’t freak out,” Jason says, but he kind of did freak out. It was pretty soon after defeating Gaea, and he’d come knocking on nico’s door to see if he wanted to eat lunch together and nobody had answered. And then he hadn’t been at lunch and he hadn’t been at dinner either and again, it was like right after Gaea, so pardon if his nerves were still a little wired, he’d just been worried!  
  
Something must show on his face, though, because Nico just rolls his eyes. Smiles that little smile that has Jason heart go all warm again.  
  
“Actually, I was um,” he starts, and stops, and starts again, “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”  
  
“Come with you?” Jason repeats, blinking in surprise.  
  
“To Italy,” Nico clarifies, just in case Jason didn’t follow. Nice of him, Jason thinks, because his brain hasn’t quite gotten the memo that Nico’s standing in his cabin, asking him to go to Italy with him.  
  
“Uh, why?” Is what makes it out.  
  
He sees Nico close up just a bit, shoulders hunching minutely closer together. He shrugs. “I mean, if you’re busy, of course it’s fine, I was just—I dunno, I just thought I would ask. Sorry.”  
  
“No, no no,” Jason says quickly, shoving his book to the side and losing his page, “I’m not busy.”  
  
Nico raises an eyebrow, “Don’t you have a big shrine building thing going on?”  
  
“I have pretty much all the designs done, and I’ve built half of them. I can put the rest on hold for a few days.”  
  
“I dunno how long it’ll take,” Nico admits. Jason wonders what business Nico has in Italy that’ll take more than a few days — are they already giving out quests again? — and then realizes it’s completely in his power to find out.  
  
“That’s fine,” Jason says, without really thinking it through. The Zeus Cabin can survive a little bit without a cabin leader. He’s still technically the only member.  
  
“Really?” Nico asks, sounding more hopeful than he probably meant to. Jason bites back something fond.  
  
“Yeah. To be honest, I’ve been feeling kinda restless lately anyways. Plus, I’ve never been to Italy.”  
  
Nico smiles. 

“So how exactly are we planning on getting there?” He asks over his potato salad.  
  
Nico pauses for a moment. “Well, I was probably just gonna shadow travel, but it’ll be more work with two people, and I dunno if I can go that far in one jump.”  
  
Nico never likes admitting his weaknesses, Jason’s learned, even if they aren’t really weaknesses at all. Like, the distance that he can travel is incredible in itself, no one can blame a guy for not being able to do everything.  
  
“I guess we could do more than one jump,” Nico adds.  
  
Suddenly, Jason had an incredible idea, one of the best he’s had since he decided to be Nicos friend. “We could do a road trip.”  
  
Nico blinks at him. “What’s that.”  
  
“Y’know, it’s like a long trip in a car. You play music and see a lot of tourist shit? They’re in movies a lot.”  
  
Nico looks at him hard for a second, “Jason, I dunno if you know this, but I’m from the thirties. I haven’t seen very many movies.”  
  
Jason huffs an embarrassed laugh, “Yeah, neither have I. But Leo says they’re fun.”  
  
“Leo says a lot of things are fun.”  
  
“True,” Jason admits, “But I’ve always wanted to try it out.”  
  
Nico pauses to consider, propping his chin on his hand. His wrists are still so small. “Do you know how to drive?”  
  
“Uh, I think so? I don’t have like, a license, but I get the gist of it.”  
  
“Where’re we gonna get a car?”  
  
“Didn’t your dad give you one?” Your dad being the god of the underworld, which shouldn’t still be as weird to think about as it is, considering everything, “Like as a weird gift that one time?”  
  
Nico makes a face at the mention, “Yeah. I think the car might come with the driver, though.”  
  
“Hey, that’s perfect! Neither of us will have to drive illegally and get arrested or anything.”  
  
“We wouldn’t get arrested,” Nico rolls his eyes.  
  
“And why not?”  
  
“Cause we wouldn’t get caught, stupid.”  
  
Jason laughs. “Still. It’s better safe than sorry. Plus, it’s less work for us, right?”  
  
“I guess so,” Nico concedes. A moment, and then another. He takes a sip of his Dr Pepper, tilts his head like he’s weighing his options. “Alright,” he says eventually, “A — what’s it called?”  
  
“Road trip.”  
  
“A road trip sounds nice. I still don’t really know how they work, though.”  
  
“Yeah, neither do I,” Jason admits.  
  
Leo, as it turns out, is the perfect man to go to for help. He lends the two of them his contraband DVD player and password (fuckingpassword, all lowercase, he whispers conspiratorially) to the Netflix account he still mooches off of from his old foster family and a list of movies —Little Miss Sunshine, The Muppet Movie, Zombieland (what the hell? Nico asks) and more — and tells them to have at it.  
  
By the end of the night, Jason had compiled a list of Mandatory Things To Do On A Road Trip. Nico laughs at him when he sees that he’s actually writing it down, but if they’re actually doing this they might as well go all out with it.  
  
So it goes like this:  
  
One: Make A Special Playlist (Jason isn’t sure how old the car will be, and if it’ll have an aux cord or CD player, so they might have to improvise)  
  
Two: Stop At A Cafe Or Wafflehouse (if they have those in Italy)  
  
Three: Bring Snacks To Avoid Disaster 

Four: Bring A Map To Avoid Disaster

Five: Stop At Tourist Attractions And Take Pictures

Six: Have An Emotional Bonding Moment

Jason writes the sixth one afterwards, when Nico’s done looking. Partially because he doesn’t wanna scare Nico off, and partially because he doubts it’ll even happen. Not that he wants it to, doesn’t know what it would be about or how to handle it, it just. Seems inevitable, in such a small space. All the movies have one, but maybe that’s just a movie thing. It’s whatever, he thinks. Five is a good number to have. He thinks they’re good to go.

In the half a year since the war with the earth ended, both camps have been slowly settling back into some semblance of normalcy. However normalcy is defined in this situation. He was surprised when Nico decided he was going to stay, but he wasn’t about to interrogate the guy about it — he was happy enough just knowing he was gonna be here. Reyna wasn’t, everyone thought Leo was dead at the time, and Percy and Annabeth were taking some time off. He was still practically a stranger at camp, so it was a relief to have someone there who he actually, like, knew. 

Plus — and call him a little too Roman here, whatever — he thought it was kinda ridiculous that you had to eat with your cabin. Like, he knew cohorts weren’t a thing here, but Nico sitting alone at his table, picking at his food and Jason sitting alone at his table and picking at his food hadn’t cut it for very long. While Chiron wasn’t looking, he took his tray and slid into the bench across from Nico, who’d looked up sharply and glanced around to check if anyone was looking — which they were, Jason knew, but didn’t care. 

“You can’t sit here,” Nico had whispered. 

“I’m bored by myself.”

“People are looking.”

That was always the thing, Jason thought. People were always looking, always staring at both of them. They were both tired of it. 

“We just helped save the world,” he’d pointed out, speaking loud enough for anyone who was listening to hear, “Who cares where we sit?”

Nico had ducked his head under Chiron’s gaze, but he stopped playing with his food long enough to actually eat some of it. He seemed quietly grateful not to have to eat alone. He called Jason ridiculous, of course, but it was the quiet relief that had Jason coming back more and more often. 

The morning before they leave, Jason grabs two breakfast rolls and tosses one to Nico. He catches it gracefully. No one glances at them anymore; the Zeus table has been empty for a while now. 

“Have you told Hazel you’re leaving?” He asks. 

Nico nods around his spoon, “Yeah. I IM-ed her earlier. She told us to bring lots of food and not get lost. Reyna said she didn’t help me tote a giant statue halfway across the world for me to get lost in Europe again, so we should probably listen.”

Jason grins, “Sounds serious.”

“You tell Piper?” 

“Yeah,” Jason takes a bite of his roll, “She said to have fun and be careful. And that we have to stop at um, t _he Club del_ \- something that starts with a D - _Restaurant_.”

“Has she been to Italy?” He asks, sounding genuinely interested. That was the thing with Nico — he didn’t pretend to be anything for the sake of it. He was polite, but didn’t pretend to care when he didn’t. 

“Nah, but her dad has.” 

“Her dad the actor, right?”

Jason nods, “He’s been all over to shoot his movies. He used to take Piper with him, so she’s been like everywhere.”

Nico makes a thoughtful noise, “Maybe I should ask her to come with me instead.” 

“There’d probably be a lower chance of you getting lost,” Jason admits. Nico makes an amused sound around the bread in his mouth. It should be kind of nasty, but instead it’s just endearing. Jason decides not to read too much into that. 

The thing is, the past six months have left Piper and Jason at a kind of impasse. It’s nothing dramatic, or malicious, it’s just. Well, Jason’s been focused on one thing and Piper’s been focused on another. It’s neither of their faults, it’s just what’s been happening. She gave him a kiss on the cheek to say goodbye, but didn’t seem all that sad to see him go. He doesn’t fault her for it — he’s not all that sad to go, either. 

“When do you wanna leave?” He asks instead of dwelling on it. 

“As soon as possible would be best,” Nico says, taking his last bite. “I was thinking we get everything we need, I shadow travel us across the ocean so we don’t have to like, fly or something. And then I summon Jules there, to save us the trouble.” 

Jason considers it for a minute, “Sounds good to me. Meet at my cabin?” 

“Sure,” Nico says. “Don’t forget your pillow.”

Jason does forget his pillow. But, he does remember the playlist Leo and Piper had helped him make the night before. Drew from the Aphrodite cabin even pitched in, pointing out how old the iPod Piper’s letting him borrow is but still offering a few song suggestions. He doesn’t know if the car will have the kinda radio to let him hook it up, but he has a list and he’s sticking to it.

Nico says that he’s been to Italy once or twice before, so when they walk to the edge of camp, backpacks strung over their shoulders and a Walmart bag full of snacks in his hands and Nico tells him to hold on and Please Don’t Drop The Fucking Snack Back, Jason, Jason takes his hand and hopes for the best. He still doesn’t love shadow travel, ‘cause it’s dark and tight and still takes the air right out of his lungs, but he has to admit it’s pretty cool. Pretty convenient, to close your eyes for like twenty seconds and then suddenly be across the ocean, no travel fees or airplanes needed.

(“We’re not flying there,” Nico had shot him down immediately, back when he brought it up, “I don’t like being that high off the ground. And your shitty dad might try to shoot me out of the sky.”)

They land hard - or at least, Jason lands hard, and he has to steady himself on Nico’s shoulder with the hand not already holding Nico’s. 

“Gods, that still takes it out of me,” he breathes, and can’t feel too put out when Nico quietly laughs at him - only knows because he feels Nico’s bony shoulder move under his hand. “How often did you and Reyna do that?”

“About ten times,” Nico says, quietly smug, “She handled it better than you, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

Nico looks around while Jason dusts himself off, and when he doesn’t see anyone, put his hands on his hips and says, “Okay. I’m gonna call our ride.”

So, Jason sits on a big rock and watches Nico stand there and hold his arms out for about three minutes; it would look kinda funny if the ground didn’t start to shake underneath him. A pocket of earth splits open, and a few seconds later there’s an old 1980’s looking taxi cab parked in front of them, and the earth is solid again. 

Fuck flying, Jason thinks. If he had the power to call a whole car up from the depths of the underworld whenever he felt like it, there’s no way he wouldn’t be showing _that_ off to everyone.

Nico taps on the glass, and the driver’s seat window rolls down. “Hey, Jules,” Nico ducks down; the zombie-looking taxi driver makes a sound back at him; Jason wonders vaguely about vocal chords. “That’s Jason. We’re gonna have a road trip.”

If Jules-Albert The 80’s French Taxi Driver know what a road trip is, he doesn’t say. He also doesn’t say if he does know. He doesn’t really say much of anything, actually, but Nico pops the trunk open and tosses his stuff in anyways, so Jason does the same.

“Vocal chords?” he asks vaguely, tilting his head at the driver.

Nico shrugs. “Ghosts don’t have vocal chords, and they can still talk. I think he’s just a quiet guy.”

“Oh,” Jason says, “Cool.” 

He takes a moment to look around, and decides this is probably a good time to ask the question he’s wanted to ask since Nico dropped the do you wanna come to a European country with me question.

“So, where are we headed?” Jason asks carefully, bracing a hand on the back of the car, “All I’m saying is we don’t wanna get too far off course, y’know?”

Nico’s frown softens, “I know,” he sighs. “It’s just. Well, it’s not a quest or a monster or anything like that. It’s kinda like a personal thing?”

“That’s fine,” Jason says, not too quickly, “I kinda figured when you only brought one weapon with you.”

Nico flushes just a bit, the way he does when he’s been caught in the act of petting a puppy or something, like it’s something to be embarrassed about. 

“You don’t have to tell me what it is right now,” Jason adds, “But I’m gonna find out eventually, unless you get tired of me and kick me to the curb halfway through.”

Nico huffs something like a laugh, where even months ago he would’ve bristled at the unintended jab. “I won’t get tired of you,” he says. Seems to consider for a moment, “I wanna try to find my old house. The one we lived in before we moved to America.”

“The one from back in the forties?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” Nico nods, “I know it’s a long shot, but my dad told me where it used to be. I never — I could never work up the nerve to go look for it.” 

“Nico,” he starts; pauses, hesitant to continue, but does anyways, “You know it might—I mean, it might not, like…”

“Be there anymore? I know. I just. Feel like I need to make sure.” 

Jason nods; he gets that. “Not that I'm not glad to be here, but why invite me? Why not Hazel or something?”

Nico picks at his fingers; a nervous tick, Jason’s noticed, a step down from twisting his ring. “Hazel’s pretty busy. And I dunno, you’re just. Well, you’re my friend, right? And I don’t—I just don’t really wanna do it alone?” 

Jason tries to tamp down the rush of affection he feels. It doesn’t like, work very much, so he decides that he’s allowed to feel affectionate about Nico saying stuff like that. Even after all these months they’ve been friends, Nico still says the word like it’s something fragile, like it’ll break if he says it too loudly. 

“Well,” he says, “luckily for you, I wasn’t gonna say no to a vacation to Italy.” he smiles at the way Nico rolls his eyes to shoo off the embarrassment, “Plus, I brought music.”

“Do you even know half the songs on the playlist?” Nico asks pointedly.

“Alright, so I had very little part in actually making it,” he admits. “But! That just means it’ll be exciting.”

Nico makes a skeptical noise. “If Leo helped, I don’t expect very much.”

“Piper helped, too!”

“That’s better. I trust her music taste.”

Jason is suddenly curious, “What’s your music taste like?”

Nico blinks at him, like no one’s ever asked him this question before. Which-- when would they? Jason thinks. And anyways, are there radios in the Underworld?

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out,” Nico says cryptically, which Jason thinks might mean _I don’t know,_ but he graciously doesn’t call him out. “And no, there aren’t any radios in the Underworld.”

“Did I say that out loud?” Jason asks, bemused.

“No,” Nico shrugs, “But it’d be my first question.”

Jason smiles, “Same wavelength.”

Nico just rolls his eyes. “Okay,” he says, shutting the trunk with a solid thunk. “Let’s see how good your playlist is.”

“I hope Jules likes it,” Jason says, just to make Nico roll his eyes again.

If Jules likes his playlist, he doesn’t say. He also doesn’t say he doesn’t like it, and doesn’t unplug the aux cord that Jason is surprised he can even use in this old thing (“I think my dad updated the radio, when he decided he was gonna give to me, like, as a present.”

“Why not just get a newer car?”

Nico shrugs, “He’s a weirdo, I dunno why he does things.”

Jason just accepts that, instead of agreeing, because he doesn’t want the ground to split open and drag him down when he steps outside because he agreed with calling the god of the underworld a weirdo. He doesn’t know how serious Hades takes shit like that, but Jason’s met some pretty serious deities, and the underworld seems like a pretty serious place; he doesn’t wanna take chances.)

Jason likes his playlist, though, which is nice, considering he barely helped make it. Nico seems to like it, too, or at least doesn’t dislike it. The Italian countryside flies by as he watches, and it’s nice.

He learns along the way, that day, that Nico likes the softer stuff, R&B and floaty kind of music, some gentle guitar, foresty kind of folk. And eighties pop, surprisingly. Like, he knows enough Queen to hum along.  
  
Jason likes nineties love songs. He likes the soft flow, the dramatic lyrics. He like classical, sometimes, when he’s trying to focus. He likes softer pop. Or at least, what he’s heard of all of those. He doesn’t think he knows enough about music to have a grounded opinion, but Nico says listening to people talk about it makes him feel old.  
  
“Some teen at a bookstore asked if I knew who— what was it, some kinda disco? — was, like I was supposed to. I said I didn’t and he looked at me like I just insulted his mom.”  
  
“When I told Piper I didn’t know who Rihanna was, she said I really didn’t know a damn thing about the world.”  
  
“It’s like, if I went up to someone and asked if they knew who Norma Bruni was, they’d probably say no. That’s some real talent right there.”  
  
Jason gives him a guilty look.  
  
Nico shrugs, like he doesn’t hold it against him. “She was a singer from back when I was little. She performed with my mom once. It was incredible.”  
  
“Your mom was a singer?”  
  
“Yeah,” He says, voice soft and reminiscing, “She was amazing. She was almost on her own record. Bianca was a good singer, too.”  
  
Jason suddenly knows to tread carefully; his sister is a subject he doesn’t bring up very often. When he does, it can go sour easily. “Not you, though?”  
  
“Nah,” Nico shakes his head, “the singer gene skipped me.”  
  
“I’m sure you’re not that bad.”  
  
“I’m not singing for you, Grace,” he grips, shoving him with his elbow. But it’s light, and a little teasing, so Jason knows it’s okay to tease back.  
  
“C’mon, serenade me!”  
  
“I changed my mind: I am kicking you out early.”  
  
Jason laughs, putting his hands up in lock surrender, “Sorry, sorry. Please don’t kick me out.”  
  
Nico frowns at him, and for a moment Jason is afraid he seriously is contemplating kicking him to the curb. But then he sees the edge of his mouth curling up into the smallest smile. He’s teasing again, in his odd little way. It shouldn’t be as endearing as it is.  
  
“Fine,” he sighs, like it’s a struggle to say, “but mention singing one more time and you’re gone.”  
  
Jason makes a cross over his heart with his finger. “Noted.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
An unfamiliar song plays in the background, something soft and smooth like they both enjoy — _[I know you been in a hurry, don’t forget this is a journey, close them eyes and don’t you worry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PpdxZKs5bk) _ -  
  
Jason looks out the window, the scenery passing by. Life’s been going nonstop since as long as he can remember. Just being here, relaxing and talking and taking their time, feels nice.  
  
“I think I like this one,” he says.  
  
“Yeah,” Nico says, voice soft, “Me too.”

Step One on the list: down.

It’s when the sun starts to set that it really sink in how little they’ve actually, like, planned. 

“Hey, Nico,” Jason says.

Nico glances over at him, halfway through a granola bar, “Yeah?”

“Are we gonna stop for the night?” when Nico just blinks at him, Jason flounders for a second, “I mean like, what’s the sleeping situation?”

Nico stops eating his granola bar long enough to think about it. “I guess I didn’t think about that. If I was by myself I’d probably just sleep in the car or like, under a tree or something.”

“Under a tree.”

“I used to sleep on park benches in New York,” Nico says, “Trees are a step up.”

Sometimes Jason is forcibly reminded that Nico lived an essentially homeless - bar his Bedroom In Hade’s Castle - life from the age of ten to - in theory - the end of the war against Gaea. Like, he’ll mention sewing stitches into his own arm and that it’s not that bad once you get started, or which motels don’t ask for ID, learned at the tender age of Too Young To Rent A Room. 

Nico leans forwards to ask talk to Jules before he has to come up with a way to answer that doesn’t sound judgy or patronizing, which he’s grateful for. He asks how close they are to any cities, since they landed kind of in the middle of nowhere so nobody would catch them raising a car from the earth. Jules either speaks very quietly, or Nico is interpreting silence, so Jason listens to whatever song is playing for a moment instead.

“We’re going around Rome,” he says, which Jason has zero disagreements about - he’s fine with no bullshit Greek-Roman and/or monster drama, and Rome will be teeming with it, “But we can stop in Siena and find somewhere to stay for the night.”

“I don’t have very much money,” Jason admits - can’t blame bad planning this time; Jason just doesn’t have very much money, period. He doesn’t have an off-camp job, since he so busy with everything else, and lucky for every single one of them, Camp Half-Blood is free. 

Nico digs into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out what looks like a gray debit card. “My dad’s the god of wealth,” he says, “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Jason laughs, “Why were you sleeping on park benches if your dad’s the god of wealth?”

Nico tucks the debit card away and sinks back into the seat, “He’s better to me than most gods are to their kids,” he pointedly doesn’t look at Jason, and Jason pointedly doesn’t think about Jupiter, “But he was right up there for a while. He didn’t - well, he liked my sister more, and then she died, and I didn’t. It was a while before he even like, talked to me at all. He’s better now - tries more, for whatever reason.”

“He did give you a car for your birthday,” Jason agrees to lighten the mood, “Driver included.”

Jules makes a noise in the front seat, and Nico turns to the side to hide a grin that Jason can still see reflected in the window. “Yeah, ‘cause he’s a weirdo. Coulda just let me get my license, but I don’t think he knows how that works.”

“Don’t you technically like, not exist in the U.S?”

Nico tilts his head, “Why’s that?”

“Do you have your birth certificate? Or citizenship?”

“Well, I must’ve gotten something like that - we moved to America, back when I was a kid. Does citizenship expire?”

“I don’t know,” Jason admits, “Some kids at Camp Jupiter get licenses or bank accounts and stuff, but we have a system for that, since most kids join young and are pretty, like, cut off from everything.”

“You should get your license,” Nico says, “Then we won’t have to bother Jules whenever we wanna go somewhere.”

“You’re saying you’d bother me instead,” Jason accuses, even though the thought puts something fond in his chest - the way Nico says _we_ , like if he goes somewhere important obviously Jason will be there, too. 

“Yeah, exactly,” Nico agrees, and Jason supposes they’re both ignoring how hesitant and non-pressuring Nico had been when he asked Jason to come in the first place. “You’d be my new chauffeur.”

“I’d get a new car,” Jason says, “No offense to Jules, but I don’t think I could rock the taxi cab look.”

“Thought you were broke.”

“Thought your dad was the god of wealth.”

“You’re saying I’d buy you a new fuckin’ car,” Nico mimicks his tone from earlier.

“If you’d be the one telling me where to go, it’d basically be _our_ car. You buy, I drive, it’s a mutual investment.”

Nico smiles at him, laughs into the back of his hand, the way he does when he actually thinks something is funny - once, Hazel had made him laugh so much he had to use both hands, always pushing everything back into himself before he has the chance to let it out. Jason wants to see him laugh for real, no hiding behind his hands or pushing the smile up to his eyes instead. 

“Deal,” Nico says, and if Jason didn’t know any better he’d think he was serious. “What kinda car would you want?”

“I don’t really know shit about cars, to be honest,” Jason is very good about not swearing in front of campers or authority figures or his old cohort, because he was a good role model and a good leader, etc etc, but Nico’s relatively bad mouth is contagious, sometimes.

“I think rich people have, what, Mercedes? Or BMWs, or something.”

“You’d buy me a rich people car, huh?”

“Sure - then at least you wouldn’t look broke, too.”

Jason gasps - like, genuinely, “You think I look _broke_?”

Nico laughs again, and this time he can only catch the last of it in his hands - it lights up his whole face, when he laughs, and Jason just wants to make him laugh for the rest of the night. He’s not like, funny, really - doesn’t think most people would use that word, if they had to list off Who Jason Grace Is - but Nico makes him feel like the funniest, most charming guy on Earth. It might be a little bad for his ego, in the long run, but he decides not to worry about it. 

“I didn’t say that,” Nico says, utterly unconvincing. 

“You think I look broke - that is genuinely so rude. I wear _glasses_.”

Nico can’t bury his smile in one hand, so Jason catches half the light. The car is bright as hell when he smiles like that. _(Tone it down,_ some tucked away, terrifyingly self-aware part of him thinks, and for a moment it sounds remarkably like Reyna. There’s nothing to tone down, he tells Reyna, and then tucks it away again.)

“Jason, I don’t think you look broke,” he says, genuine and exasperated, “I promise. If you wore a button up, you ‘d look like a CEO or something.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”

“CEOs are rich? That means you look rich.”

Jason can’t even pretend to be offended anymore - has to drop the joke to laugh instead. 

“Thank you,” he says, “If you wore a button up, I think you might look like a kid at prom in one of those teen movies Piper likes.”

“I’ve never seen one,” Nico says “But I went to the prom at Westover, and I _know_ that’s not a compliment.”

“If you combed your hair, you could look like you’re on your way to a job interview.”

“Asshole,” Nico says, soft and fond and without bite, and it makes that tucked away part of Jason fucking sing. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Just don’t wear a button up and you’ll be fine.”

“When the fuck would I wear a button up to begin with? I went to that stupid middle school prom, but I played by stupid game on the bleachers the whole time. Bianca - ” everything stops, for a moment, and then Nico breathes the tension out, and continues, “Bianca was so annoyed - she must’ve wanted to go dance, but she didn’t wanna leave me alone. She stayed with me the whole time.”

“She sounds like a good sister,” Jason says softly.

“Yeah. Yeah, she was.”

They settle into a natural silence for a moment - not bad, or awkward, or uncomfortable. Reflective, maybe. The first time The Bianca Topic came up with he and Jason, Nico had gotten immediately defensive - closed up, cut off, and suddenly Jason was looking at the Nico from Croatia, the Nico who told him to _fuck off and mind his business_ when Jason tried to talk about it afterwards. Jason still hadn’t minded his business, afterwards, and then he drank a mouthful of poison without thinking twice, and things had fallen into place from there. But they stumbled onto Bianca and Nico hadn’t known what to do, and Jason hadn’t known what to say or how to take it back, and it had ended with Nico straight up walking away and not showing his face anywhere for two days, until he had finally dropped his tray next to Jason halfway through dinner, and then they hadn’t talked about it again. 

This is a long, long way from that time, and Jason finds that he hadn’t noticed how much things had changed up until now, how much progress they’ve made - Nico’s made. He’s proud of Nico, Jason thinks. He’s so proud of how far Nico has come. 

Now that it’s quiet, the soft, smooth sound of the song playing floats through the car - _[you’re gonna fly away, glad you're goin’ my way; I love it when we’re cruisin’ together.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7DEYXTD12U) _

It makes Jason feel… soft? Sinks into his skin and settles somewhere in his bones. That tucked away part of him aches. He wonders what exactly Piper or Leo or whoever added this song to Jason and Nico’s Italian Road Trip was thinking. _The music is played for love, cruisin' is made for love_ \- it’s a little heavy handed, to have added it, and maybe a little bit cruel. 

He likes the song, though. He hears Nico hum along to it, and almost asks if he’s heard it somewhere before. He decides to let him be instead. Shakes his shoes off and curls one of his knees to his chest. Wonders what hotel they’re gonna find will be like. Hopes they won’t have to get different rooms - hopefully there’ll be a room with two beds, and doesn’t think about what will happen if there’s only one.

He listens to Nico hum along to the song - _inch by inch we get closer and closer, to every little part of each other._ Thinks about holding Nico’s hand, comfortable on the old upholstery.

Ignores the thought, because it feels like he should. Because he dated Piper and liked Reyna and Nico is not Piper or Reyna and he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to want both. 

He watches the world get dark outside, and watches the blinking lights of a city get shrink behind them, and a new one get brighter ahead.

It’s nice. It really is. 

They find a little hole in the wall kind of hotel, on a side street off a bigger street, because it’s Europe and there’s so much packed into a single square mile that it has to be stacked on top of each other. The room they grab has two bed, and both the blankets on the beds and every single wall is dark, pure, solid red. 

“Hazel says the color red makes her angry,” Nico says, setting his backpack on the bed near the window - they had both looked around the little room, finding every window and each door and marking every way out, because they’ve both fought through two wars and fight monsters every other week and, unfortunately, survival instincts are bone-deep. They both pretend they didn’t plan an escape route, and Jason lets Nico have the bed by the window because Nico has literally been through actual Hell, and that outweighs two wars by just a bit. 

“Good thing you asked me to come, instead; Hazel’s scary when she’s mad.”

Nico hums in agreement, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

“Alright,” Jason says, fighting down a sudden burst of fondness, “Time for bed.”

Nico for once, doesn’t disagree. 

“I think I forgot to bring pajamas,” he says. 

“I forgot my pillow,” Jason admits. 

“Guess you're lucky that hotels don’t make you bring your own.”

Jason smiles, the fatigue of sitting still for hours and being in a new country hitting him like a giant. 

“You can borrow some sweatpants,” he offers, “I brought two.”

“They’re gonna be too big.”

“They’re just for sleeping. Don’t sleep in your jeans.”

“Fine,” Nico says, and he really must be tired.

Jason tosses him some sweatpants, and tugs on the other pair while Nico goes to the bathroom to change. They brush their teeth, fighting over who gets to spit first, and then Nico is dead asleep as soon as he hits the bed, leaving Jason to turn off the lights and hop to the bed without tripping. 

He listens to Nico’s soft breathing, thinks, quietly, that it’s nice not being alone in the room, and doesn’t notice he’s falling asleep until he wakes up the next morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, Sparky,” Piper smiles, “Shoot your shot. I dare you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter got like. almost obnoxiously long. ive never been to italy and it still shows but does tht stop me at all? ofc not. 
> 
> thanks sm to the ppl who left comments and kudos, it really means a lot!

He wakes up the next morning to sunlight pouring through the window and right into his eyes. It takes him a moment to remember where he is - road trip, Italy, bright red hotel - and he rubs his eyes and glances at Nico -

Who isn’t in his bed.

Jason sits up immediately, looking frantically around the room. Did something happen? Did something get him? Are they still too close to Rome? Nico’s stuff is still in the corner, sword propped up against the wall, the window is still closed, the door is still closed, what - ? 

He hears the sound of the shower running in the bathroom, and feels like a whole dumbass. Overreacting like a new, scared camper on their first day. He laughs at himself, and falls back onto his pillow. 

He dozes for a few more minutes, before the bathroom door opens and Nico patters out, bare feet against the carpet. He cracks his head open, and sees Nico looking through his backpack, a towel over his wet hair and his jeans sliding low enough that Jason can see the sharp jut of his hip bone. He stretches, and makes a sound while he does, so Nico doesn’t catch him staring like a weirdo.

Nico glances over at him as he sits up.

“Morning,” Jason says, clearing his throat when it comes out all croaky.

“Morning,” Nico says, curling in on himself and quickly pulling a shirt over his head.

“There any warm water left?”

The corner of Nico’s mouth twitches up, and he there’s a flurry of movement as he dries his hair. “It started to run cold at the end.”

“How long of a shower did you take?” 

“Barely broke ten minutes,” Nico shoots back. “You should still take one anyway, your hair’s messy as fuck.”

Jason can’t argue with that, so he drags himself out of bed and takes a cold shower. Gets dressed, packs his stuff back up, and then they’re up and out. There’s no breakfast at the hotel, so they decide to go out and find some cafe instead.

That’s on The List, he remembers - it’s not a Wafflehouse, but it’s the closest they can find. This is Italy, so he thinks it counts.

It’s a cute little place, with an Italian name Jason can’t read, and they get a little booth in a little corner, and Jason thanks the gods that Nico can still speak Italian as well as he speaks English, and he orders for both of them. Coffee, of course, and they get some strawberry crepes that look super good in the picture on the menu. 

Nico thanks the waitress for the coffee, and then immediately reaches for the creamer and sugar. He’s one vanilla creamer and two whole sugar packets in before Jason has to say something.

“Woulda thought you liked your coffee black,” he jokes carefully as Nico peels the lid off of a second mini creamer. 

(Never teases too heavy, especially not back at the beginning - back at the beginning, he’d barely dared to tease at all. He watched Percy try and fail a few times, and decided he didn’t want Nico glaring at him like that. Didn’t want him to take anything he said personally. Nico took many things to heart - the things Percy said about him, the things the other campers said about him, the things he would overhear or overthink, would admit to Jason late at night when they were both too keyed up to sleep and emotional shit spilled over and out. Jason didn’t want him to take some dumb ‘you were gone so long I almost thought you’d never come back’ comment to heart, too.)

Nico’s in a good enough mood that he doesn’t even scowl at him. “Nah, I don’t like bitter things.”

“Sweet tooth?” Jason says, pleasantly surprised at the thought - watches Nico rip open another sugar packet to pour into his cup.

Nico shrugs, focusing intently on stirring the sugar until it dissolves. “Black coffee tastes like dirt.” 

“Yeah, it kinda does,” Jason agrees, “I think I like tea more than coffee, to be honest.”

“My mom liked tea, too,” Nico comments, offhand and delicate at the same time. “One time I fell in some canal or something, and when I got home she dried me off and made me drink a whole cup of it to warm me up.”

Jason can almost picture it: a little Nico, somehow littler than he is now, shivering and throwing back the whole thing. Something in him aches.

“How’d you fall in a canal?” he decides to say, teasing just a bit.

“None of your business.” Nico does scowl this time, but it’s half-hearted. If Jason looks hard enough, it almost seems like more of a smile. “At least I didn’t staple my own lip.”

“I was like three,” Jason defends himself, smile on his lips. He can’t seem to lose it, even as Nico prods back at him, says that he’d probably done stupid shit at three, too, but nothing _that_ stupid. Jason says he must’ve just be special - had a knack for getting his hands on things he shouldn’t have, and that included staplers. Not his fault someone left it out. 

Nico sips at his coffee, pops open another creamer and sips it again. He smiles, after, something soft and secret and pleased with himself, and doesn’t mix in anything else. 

“Good?” Jason asks before he can stop himself.

“Good,” Nico confirms, skinny little fingers curled tight around his cup. 

They sit in comfortable silence, for a moment. Sunlights pours in through the window, the sun finally high enough in the sky to really start shining. Nico tilts his head to look outside, and Jason watches him watch the world wake up. The circles under his eyes aren’t as prominent, and he looks healthier than Jason’s ever seen him before; stiller than Jason’s ever seen him before, too, the only movement his wandering eyes and his thumb tracing the curve of the mug’s handle.

He looks young, and peaceful, and pretty. He looks _pretty_ , and soft, and something in Jason _aches_. 

Nico takes another sip. Turns a bit, catches him looking. Raises an eyebrow in silent question.

Jason has a fleeting urge to look away. Finds he can’t. Finds he doesn’t really have anything to say, but finds he can smile instead. 

Nico brings the cup up to hide his mouth, but Jason can see the smile in his eyes, the way they crinkle up in the corners, the way Jason has noticed the way that his eyes move when he smiles, for some strange reason. 

Nico says nothing, turns to look out the window again, and something in Jason aches.

(Step Two: down.)

“We have to take tourist pics,” Jason says for the third time.

Nico shakes his head for the third time. “I’m not a tourist, I was born here.”

 _“I_ wasn’t born here.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Nico, it’s on the _list!”_

“That you wrote.”

“You proof-read it.”

“I read it, I didn’t agree to it.”

“But you didn’t change anything.”

“So?”

“That means you approved, which means you said yes to tourist pictures, and that’s that.”

“Jason,” Nico says, exasperated, but there’s a smile in his voice, even if it’s not on his face. Got him, Jason thinks.

“We need something to prove we were here,” Jason says, “People do it all the time.”

“Take tourist pictures?”

“Just,” Jason shrugs, “take pictures, right? Like, of vacations and fun family times and selfies and stuff. And then put them up on their walls.”

“Did you guys have a wall of pictures at Camp Jupiter, or…?”

“No,” Jason admits, “But it’s in movies and stuff. It’s like, a normal thing people do. I never,” Jason pauses, because there’s this weird, sudden emotion that wells up in his chest, and he didn’t mean for that to happen, “Well, I guess I never had something like that. Me and Piper and Leo took pictures back at school, but then we actually didn’t ‘cause the memories were actually fake, and all that.”

Nico sighs, and Jason didn’t mean to guilt him into it, but he’s not gonna go and take it back.

“It’s really that important to you?”

Jason shrugs, even though he’s realizing that it actually is, “Some kids at Camp have like, family pictures up and stuff. I have one of me and Thalia, but that’s it. You said you wanted to redesign your cabin, right?”

Nico crosses his arms and sighs again, “Maybe.”

“You’ll need something to put up on your walls.”

Jason knows he has him, but he still can’t help feeling relieved as Nico uncrosses his arms to put his hands on his hips, “Fine, I’ll take your stupid tourist pictures.”

Jason breaks out into a helpless smile.

“But we’re still not touching Rome with a ten foot fuckin’ pole, okay?”

“I know, I know,” Jason laughs, “I don’t want any monster B.S. either.”

Nico smiles back, kind of helpless, shakes his head like Piper used to, sometimes - a fond sort of ‘I can’t believe I like you’. But it’s not the same, Jason bulldozes over his own bullshit; Nico’s not his boyfriend, he’s his friend. It’s a friendly sort of liking. Jason feels the same. Obviously. 

“What are we even gonna take tourist pics of?” Nico asks. Jason considers this for a moment.

“We could go see the Tower Of Pisa,” he suggests, “That’s not in Rome.”

“It’s in the opposite direction of Venice,” Nico points out, “But sure, I think that’s fine. We’re already here, so we might as well.”

Jason nods enthusiastically. “If we were still in America, we could find that ‘World’s Biggest Rubber Band Ball’ that Leo told me about.”

“That’s a thing?” Nico asks.

“Guess so,” Jason huffs a laugh. 

“Why the fuck is that a thing?” Nico sounds kind of scandalized at this point, like Hazel does when she fans herself after hearing something very un-fifties-like.

“No idea.”

“Americans are so weird.”

“Percy told me there’s a ‘world’s biggest rubber duck,’ too.”

“What the fuck.”

“We’re going sometime,” Jason decides, “We have to.”

Nico makes a small _hm_ sound, and says “Yeah, okay.”

Jason tries not to think about how happy that makes him, the idea of Nico wanting to do something like this again, traveling and having fun and shit, just the two of them.

“Okay, cool,” he thinks for a moment, and gasps, “Oh, we should’ve stopped at Pompeii! That was back closer to where we first landed.”

The corner of Nico’s mouth curls up, and he tilts his head to the side, glances up at Jason through his hair, “It’s cool. We can hit it on the way back, if you want.”

Jason just about beams.

So they jump back into the car, and then they’re off to the Leaning Tower Of Pisa. They crack the two back windows open, just a bit, because it’s kind of stuffy and it’s an old taxi; AC isn’t all that great. 

Nico is more relaxed than he was yesterday, or maybe he’s happier. He leans back against the window instead of the seat and closes his eyes, one leg bent at the knee and propped up on the seat cushion, and the other one hanging off of it awkwardly. Jason takes pity on him, grabs his ankle to lift his leg and sets it on his lap.

Nico’s eyes crack open, and Jason wonders if he’s somehow crossed some invisible line, after all these months of arms over shoulders and sharing a couch, but then Nico gives him a little smile, and closes his eyes again, muscles in his leg relaxing. He’s short enough that his foot doesn’t reach Jason’s door with the way he’s propped up against his own. Jason leans back in his seat, one hand laying absently on Nico’s shin, tilts his head back, and listens to whatever song is playing, now — _[hey baby, you caught me glancin’; we should be dancin’; how do I get closer to you?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYEKlxUty84) _

It’s smooth, and calm. He likes the sound of it. He wonders vaguely if they’ve cycled through the playlist yet, but Jason hasn’t noticed and Nico hasn’t complained — Jason hears him humming quietly along; he’s probably never heard it before, so he messes up a few times, loses the tune, but he jumps right back on track. It’s endearing. It’s peaceful. Jason hasn’t had time to relax in so long, and the little bit of wind flowing through the car blows through Nico’s curls. 

He looks soft, and happy and actually seems his age, and something in Jason just fucking aches.

They make it to Pisa in good time — barely scratch two hours; everything in Europe is so much closer together than it is in the US. Makes getting around a whole lot easier. 

It also means that everywhere you look, there are people. Pisa, housing a huge tourist attraction, is obviously packed with tourists. Jason really is so grateful to the whole Mist thing for making it possible for Nico to keep his big iron sword strapped to his belt the whole time without getting them arrested. 

There are approximately fifty people posing in the exact same way — arms up like they’re holding up the tower all by themselves. They find a free place on the grass, and Jason somehow talks Nico into doing the same thing. 

He doesn’t go down easily, but he eventually does it — one hand shoved into a jacket pocket, and one held up lazily, the only thing keeping the tower from falling. He’s not even looking at the camera, an exasperated frown on his face, but Jason loves it anyways. 

“Okay, now you have to go,” Nico says immediately after the picture is taken. 

Jason laughs, and considers holding the camera out of reach just to see what Nico would do, but decides that he wants to keep his life in tact. 

He lets him take the picture, and actually smiles in it. 

(Step 5: down.)

They catch dinner in a diner near the water, and they would look kind of out of place in their Not Fancy clothes if it weren’t for some of the other tourists who also found their way in. It’s not near enough to the Tourist Attractions that all the servers speak English, so Jason can hear them struggling from here. Nico hides a smile in his cup of iced tea, and stands up. Jason blinks up at him, and Nico winks. Jason just sits there for a moment, watching blankly as Nico walks over to the struggling family, trying to process the fact that Nico winked at him. It wasn’t like, overtly flirty, but Jason’s heart doesn’t give a shit about that. Huh.

He swallows down some of his soda, watches Nico gently intervene with a small, awkward wave and offer to help translate back and forth before the waiter or the father lose their shit. The woman who Jason assumes must be the mother smiles gratefully, looking so stressed she might cry. Nico smiles softly, and turns to the waiter to offer the same thing.

The exchange goes pretty smoothly, after that, Nico helpfully telling the family what things are actually on the menu, giving them suggestions when they ask what he thinks is good, and then telling the waiter, so that the family doesn’t have to just point at the menu and speak English a little louder than usual, like that would help the Italian waiter better understand them. 

The waiter looks extremely grateful for this, too, and Jason hides a laugh in his bread. 

By the time Nico makes his way back over to their booth, both the mother and the father are looking at Nico like he’s god’s gift to American tourists, and Nico says it’s no problem about fifty times each. One of the two kids tells Nico that she likes his ring, and Nico says thank you very much. 

“That was really nice of you,” Jason tells him when he slides back into the booth. 

Nico shrugs, ducking his head and twisting the ring that the girl complimented. “At the rate they were going, it was gonna take all night, and they were gonna give the rest of us huge-ass headaches.” 

Jason snorts, “Still. It was nice.”

Nico, seeming extremely self-conscious, takes a long sip of his drink so he doesn’t have to respond. Jason smiles fondly, and lets him be. 

The rest of the meal passes without incident, Nico gives the waiter his fancy gray credit card and then they’re on their way. 

(“I honestly didn’t know how the hell those things worked when I first got it,” Nico admits when the waiter leaves, “Like, how it there money on a little card? Where does it come from? I still don’t really get it, but it always works, so,” he shrugs, and Jason pushes down a fond smile.)

The family that Nico helped says goodbye to them on their way out, and Nico ducks his head a little and says goodbye, too, and that he hopes the rest of their vacation goes well. 

Somehow, after all these months, Jason is still struck by how kind Nico is. He tries his very best not to seem it, but it shines through anyways. Jason thinks that anyone who says they can’t see it must either by blind or willingly ignoring it. It makes something in Jason soft, makes him want to take Nico by the hand and like, make him know how good he is, make him see himself the way Jason does. He forces it down, and does not do it, because he doesn’t wanna get his ass dropped in the middle of Italy. But he thinks about it. 

They find another cheap-ish hotel, and Jason’s heart nearly stops when Nico turns to him and tells him that the clerk said that there’s only single-bed rooms left. As in, rooms with only one bed. For both of them. To share.

“Oh,” Jason says, trying very hard to sound casual, because this is nothing to get weird about, “Well, if you want to find a different hotel or something, we can do that.”

Nico looks at him for a moment, like he’s searching for something, and shrugs. “I’m fine, if you are. It’s just one night, and it’s not like we haven’t slept on the same couch before.”

Jason would say that accidentally falling asleep on the same couch while they watch bad horror movies is not the same thing as purposely getting into and sleeping together in the same bed, but he doesn’t. 

Instead, he just shrugs back, and says, “Yeah, okay,” because apparently he just fucking hates himself and also because he doesn’t want to make Nico feel bad or weird or uncomfortable. Doesn’t want to make him feel like Jason is uncomfortable or off-put by the innocent, platonic idea of sharing a bed with him, because he isn’t. A week ago, he would’ve been fine. But a week ago, he hadn’t had two days of road tripping in Italy with Nico and growing aware of some deep-seated feelings under his belt, so his situation has changed a little bit.

Still, Nico pays for the room, they get their keycard, they take their shit upstairs, and then the deal is sealed. Nico clicks the lights on, and the bed sits there innocently in the center of the room. Nico drops his backpack on the side closest to the window — which actually leads to a balcony, Jason notices with excitement, totally drawing him away from his Bed Crisis for the moment. 

“There’s a balcony,” Jason says, stating the obvious. 

“Yeah,” Nico says, “She asked if I wanted one, ‘cause there was one with and one without; I said yes, ‘cause I thought you might like it.”

And gods, if that doesn’t make Jason feel like the most doted upon guy in the world. “Thanks, Nico,” he says, and Nico shrugs. He doesn’t duck his head, or hide his face — he looks Jason straight on and smiles, and Jason has a sudden, unbidden thought that he needs to call Piper. He needs to talk to her right fucking away. 

So, later, while Nico is down in the lobby asking if they serve breakfast here, Jason goes out onto the balcony, and talks himself into IM-ing Piper.

Last minute, he wonders what time it actually is in New York right now, but rests easy when she eventually answers.

“Jason?” she asks, seeming surprised to see him.

“Hey, Piper,” he says, and he must sound stressed enough that she can hear it on the other side of the world, because her eyebrows furrow the way she does when she’s concerned.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Jason waves his hand to wave off the words.

She eyes him suspiciously, “Okay… how’s Italy?”

“Italy’s great,” he answers, “The weather’s great, the coffee’s pretty good. We saw the Tower of Pisa today.”

“You take any pictures?”

“Yeah,” Jason smiles faintly, despite how wound up he’s feeling, “We took one of Nico ‘holding up’ the tower, like every single tourist ever.”

“How is Nico?” Piper asks, and the question is innocent enough, but Jason’s heart still races just a little bit. 

“He’s great,” he answers, maybe a tad too quick, “He’s fine, he’s. I think he’s really having fun.”

“That’s really good,” Piper says, sounding sincere but careful, and Jason wonders if he’s being obvious. If he’s obvious to everyone, if he’s obvious to Nico, too, “I’m glad to hear it.”

There are a few moments where neither of them seem to know what to say, and then they both start to speak at the same time. Piper huffs a laugh, relieving the tension.

“Go ahead,” she says.

He sighs heavily, releasing the breath he’s been holding since he made the call. “So, um. I actually. Well, I think I need advice?”

Piper raises her eyebrows, and leans forwards; he notices that she’s on her bed. “What kind of advice?”

“Um. Daughter of Aphrodite advice? I guess?”

Her eyes widen just a bit, and then her eyebrows furrow, and then shoot up again. Something soft passes her face, and then she props her chin on her hand. 

“Is it about Nico?” she asks, all soft and knowing and so non-judgmental Jason could cry. He doesn’t know why he thought she’d react any differently, but, well. He didn’t know there was something to react badly _to_ until, like, a day ago. Maybe an hour ago, for sure.

He swallows, throat surprisingly dry. “Yeah,” he admits weakly. “I, um,” he stutters, and he’s never felt so uncertain before, years of training to be a decisive leader under his belt and tattooed into his skin, “Well, I think I…” 

“You like him, huh?” Piper graciously finishes for him. He’s so grateful for her; like, truly. 

“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, I think I do. I just don’t really know what exactly to do about it.”

She smiles softly at him again, and Jason is so incredibly grateful that they’re still friends, even after they broke up, good enough friends that he can talk about his crush with his ex and neither of them feel guilty about it. 

“Well,” she says, “You’re in Italy. It’s not France or anything, but it’s still a pretty romantic place for a love confession.”

Jason nearly flushes like a damn schoolgirl at that, “Gods, Piper, it wouldn’t be a _love_ confession,” he says, but he laughs anyways, and she laughs with him. 

“Okay, okay,” she placates, “But I’m serious, Sparky. He brought you with him for a reason; he likes you enough to take you to Italy with him.”

“That doesn’t mean he likes me like _that_.”

Piper shrugs, “Maybe not. But for real - there’s been something with you two for like, actually a while now.”

Jason blinks. “What?”

Piper ducks her head to hide a smile, “Daughter of Aphrodite, remember? There’s been some tension.”

“There hasn’t been _tension,”_ he argues, even though there maybe might have been some tension that he’s just now becoming aware of.

“Maybe tension’s not the right word. But it’s something. And I think it’s something good.”

Jason feels something relieved settle in his chest. “Really?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You really think I should say something?”

“Yeah, Sparky,” Piper smiles, “Shoot your shot. I dare you.”

Jason has to smile, too. “I’ll think about it.”

“I believe in you,” she says. “Just. Be careful, y’know? Try not to come on too strong, or be too pushy about it.”

“I know that,” he says, vaguely offended. “I know him.”

“I know,” Piper agrees, “I just don’t want you to get hurt, either.”

Jason, for probably the millionth time tonight, loves Piper so much. “Thanks, Piper. I’ll try my best.”

“I believe in you,” she says again, a teasing lilt to her voice this time. “Sweep him off his feet, Superman.”

Jason rolls his eyes. He hears the hotel door unlock and creak open, so they say their quick goodbyes and end the IM.

“Who was that?” Nico asks as Jason slides the balcony door shut.

“Piper,” he says, trying not to sound too jumpy about it, “She just called to see how we were doing.”

Nico gives a small smile, “That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah,” Jason agrees fondly. 

“Well, turns out this hotel does serve breakfast, but it ends at ten, so we have to be up before then." Jason groans dramatically, and Nico roll his eyes, “Check out time’s at eleven, anyways, so you better be up by ten or I’m eating alone and then leaving your ass.”

“You promised you wouldn’t,” Jason fake gasps.

“I said I wouldn’t kick you outta the car. Didn’t say shit about leaving you at a hotel.”

“Please, Nico, do not ditch me in an Italian hotel. I’m just a simple American, I’d be lost without you.”

Nico gives up the joke, and drops a laugh. “Fine. But you better not complain when I wake your ass up tomorrow.”

Jason puts his hands up in surrender. Nico sits down on the bed and kicks off his shoes, and then Jason realizes that he forgot to ask Piper what the hell to do about his Sharing The Bed Crisis. Shit.

He decides not to make a big deal about it, in his head or otherwise. They’re just two friends, sharing a bed because all the other double beds were booked. And it’s one bed, so it’s bigger. It’s like, a queen, if that’s how mattresses are sized here, too. They don’t even have to touch at all, if they try. Even if they don’t try, if they just stay on their sides of the bed, it’s fine. It’s all purely platonic. A hundred percent. Obviously, there’s no tension, in his head or otherwise.

These are the things he repeats to himself as Nico slides into bed next to him. 

Nico’s not making a big deal out of it, so neither is Jason. It’s all good, and fine, and friendly. It’s just one bed, one night. 

“Night, Jason,” Nico says softly, startling Jason out of his thoughts.

“Goodnight,” he answers, and Nico reaches to turn off the lights.

It’s fine. 

Jason wakes up the next morning to something soft and warm against his chest. He doesn’t notice it at first, lost in the sensation of feeling safe and comfortable, until the sun in his eyes starts to wake him up, and, as the haze of sleep starts to fade away, he realizes that the soft, warm thing against his chest is breathing. There’s something tickling his chin. 

He opens his eyes. Wisps of dark hair fan out on the pillow in front of him. He follows the hair down and onto the back of the head it belongs to. Nico is sleeping, back against Jason’s chest, close enough that Jason is suddenly very aware of his own arm draped over Nico’s torso, holding him close like a pillow, or a stuffed animal (or like Piper, some sole traitorous part of his brain whispers, back when they were together). 

Jason stops. He just — stops. His heart stops, his brain stops, his breathing stops. He takes it all in, processes, and then everything shakily starts back up again. 

Nico is asleep for the whole ordeal, the stopping and restarting of Jason Grace’s whole being. 

If he moves, Nico might wake up. If he stays like this, Nico might wake up. He also might stay asleep. Jason doesn’t know which one he would prefer. It would probably be torture either way.

He’s comfortable — more comfortable than he’s been in a long time, and he slept great last night. Everyone has a rough time sleeping every once in a while, after the war against Gaia. Just one of the things you get from fighting in a war or two. He feels safe, and warm, and Nico is solid and small against him — those big jackets he wears make him seem bigger than he is, sturdier. Nico’s always been short, but right now, curled up and sleeping, he seems smaller than ever. Jason gets this strange urge to protect him from the absolutely nothing dangerous that’s anywhere near them, even though he knows that Nico is a lot of things, but someone who needs protecting is not one of them. 

Gods, he tells himself, squeezing his eyes shut when Nico shifts a little in his sleep, get ahold of yourself, Grace. You’re were a fucking Praetor, for gods’ sake, you killed like six giants. You can survive this. 

In his arms, he feels Nico wake up — feels his deep breathing stutter and stop for a moment, as he takes in his surroundings. Jason keeps his eyes shut and tries to control his racing heart; Nico freezes up, stiff under Jason’s arm, and then gradually softens out again. He wonders if Nico feels as comfortable as he does, and if that’s why he’s not saying anything. He wonders if Nico is panicking, or if he’s uncomfortable. 

A few moments pass, and he feels Nico move under his arm, feels him turn onto his back; he keeps his eyes closed and his breath regular and tries his very hardest not to flush, even as he feels Nico’s gaze on him. He feels like everything in the room is holding its breath, and then Nico carefully lifts Jason’s arm by the wrist, and slides out of the bed. 

Jason feels the blankets shift, feels the bed dip and then straighten out again. He cracks his eyes open to catch a glimpse of Nico’s back before the bathroom door creaks shut. He breathes deep, and tries not to feel disappointed. 

Nico doesn’t mention it over breakfast, so neither does Jason, just throws back his coffee and watches Nico spread two little complimentary jars of jam on his bread. There’s a lot of bread in Europe, Jason’s noticed. 

“I think we’ll make it Venice today,” Nico says, halfway through his bread. “We can stop somewhere if you wanna take more pictures, or something. Or if we get hungry.”

“Sounds good,” Jason says. 

There’s a pause, and a silence that he isn’t quite sure is comfortable or not. Jason is automatically inclined to think it might be about this morning, but he’s also aware enough to realize that today might be the day that they find Nico’s old house. Or don’t find it. 

A bigger emphasis on the don’t. 

Nico sets his bread down, half-eaten, and stirs imaginary sugar into the coffee he hasn’t touched since he got it. He’s anxious, Jason knows, and he’s trying hard not to be. He remembers meeting with Hazel and Frank at a cafe in New Rome, Nico picking at his food while they waited for his sister to show up, because he was planning to come out to her that day. He’d asked Jason to come for moral support, and he had watched Nico hack his french toast up into little pieces before he worked up the nerve to say something. 

“Hey,” Jason says now, looking Nico in the eye when he glances up at him, “It’s gonna be fine.” 

Nico blinks at him, and frowns back down at his plate, “I know that.”

Jason doesn’t push. “I’ve never been to Venice,” he says instead, “You grew up there, right?”

“Yeah,” Nico says, accepting the subject change with ease, “My mom grew up there, too. She said she thought about moving, but never did — said she liked it too much.” 

Jason smiles. “Thalia said our mom felt the same about California.” 

Nico looks up at him curiously; Jason doesn’t often mention his mom, but he supposes it’s only fair. 

“I always forget you and Thalia are related,” he says quietly. “And then I look at your eyes, and don’t know how I forgot in the first place.” 

There’s a pause, where they both stare at each other, and then Nico stands up. The chair scrapes loudly against the floor, and Nico looks back down at his plate, distinctly embarrassed. 

“I’m, um,” he says, “You can finish eating and I’ll go check us out, okay?”

“Do you want help with the bags?” Jason offers.

Nico shakes his head quickly, “It’s two backpacks, I’ll be fine.”

Jason lets him go get their bags and check them out of the hotel, even though he’s not very hungry and probably wasn’t gonna finish his breakfast anyways, because he knows Nico’s embarrassed, and also because he knows he needs to get his own shit together, too.

Okay, he tells Piper, hundreds of miles away, maybe there is tension. 

The taxi is waiting out front five minutes later, and he pulls the door shut behind him. 

“Okay,” he says, determined to keep the air clear and not make things weird, “So, Venice next?”

Nico, thankfully, still looks at him. “Yeah,” he says, “Venice next.” 

It’s Venice next. The ride there isn’t as relaxed as it was yesterday, because it’s Venice next. Nico doesn’t stretch out like he did the day before, doesn’t close his eyes and hum along to the music. 

His mood is contagious; there’s a cloud over the taxi, even though the weather is still nice. 

Eventually, Jason can’t take it anymore.

“What’s it like?” he asks.

“Huh?” Nico glances over, called out of his stupor.

“Your house,” Jason says, “What’s it like?”

For a moment, Jason thinks that maybe it was a bad question to ask, but Nico doesn’t seem mad. 

He twists his ring around his finger, and says, “It wasn’t, like, super fancy. It was kind of small, ‘cause Dad didn’t come back till we had to move, so it was just her and the money she got from her family, sometimes. There were these cobblestone steps that lead to the front door, and,” he pauses, eyebrows furrowed, “And two windows in the front. They were round, I think, like circles, which was weird for back then. It’s how I’d tell people where I lived.”

“It sounds nice,” Jason offers, because it really does.

“Yeah,” Nico says, “I think it really was.”

Neither of them seem to have much else to say. 

They stop outside of the city. When Jason asks why, Nico says “There are no roads, Jason.”

“Oh,” Jason says, “Yeah. Venice.” 

“Even if there were, I think I’d wanna walk,” Nico admits, “I don’t think I’d know where to turn in the car.”

Jason follows without complaint. Jules… does whatever he does when they leave. Jason it’s sure if he sinks back into the ground when they aren’t looking, or if he just parks somewhere and waits. He doesn’t think about it too hard. 

Venice is a unique city, even without all the canals. Everything in Europe is different in the sense that it’s all packed together; building stack up instead of filling out. People walk the streets, and Nico walks slowly, like he’s taking everything in carefully. Jason follows, and wonders what he’s seeing. 

They twist and turn, cross a bridge or two, and then Nico suddenly stops, looking down at the water.

“Oh,” Nico says, voice soft, “That’s the canal I fell in. It’s so much narrower than I remember.”

“You’re bigger than you used to be, I hope,” Jason teases.

Nico smiles, this faraway look in his eyes; he looks hard enough that Jason thinks he’s trying to see something that isn’t there anymore. 

“The water’s lower than it was, too,” he says eventually. “It was so scary when I fell in, but it looks like a stream in some forest, now.”

Jason doesn’t quite know what to say to that. Nico looks at the water for a moment longer, and then turns to keep walking. Jason follows him. Watches him look around, like he’s trying to memorize every single thing that he sees.

“I remember this,” Nico says quietly; hushed, careful. Jason feels the delicacy in the air. They’re getting close, and the house will either be there or it won’t and then they’ll know for sure. 

“Yeah?” Jason prompts.

“Yeah. I think there was a store over here - like, a grocery store. Mama would send me and Bianca out with a list, once we were old enough. I could never go by myself, though, ‘cause I was too little. Couldn’t carry everything myself.”

“That’s cute,” Jason can’t help it. Nico shoves him a bit, but not hard. He leaves his hand where it catches on the sleeve of his jacket, fingers curling around the hem. To ground him, maybe, to keep him steady. Jason doesn’t mention it.

“I think maybe my school was nearby,” he says after a moment. “It was close enough that we could walk.”

“Do you want to…?” 

“No,” Nico shakes his head, “I don’t care. Don’t think I liked it very much, anyways.”

There’s something underneath that, but Jason doesn’t ask. It isn’t the time.

“Did you live nearby?” he asks instead.

Nico is quiet for a moment. “Yeah,” he says, “I think we did.”

They go slowly; the city moves around them, always bustling, but they walk carefully, in some quiet reverence. Jason wonders how much the city’s changed, since Nico was last here. Like everywhere in Europe, there’s new architecture sprinkled in with the old, a Starbucks next to a tall, stone tower of a building. He hopes, fleetingly, that Nico’s house wasn’t made into a Starbucks.

“Mama used to sing here,” Nico says suddenly, stopping in front of a large building with the word Cinema plastered on the front. “It wasn’t a movie theater, back then.”

He wonders what it’s like, seeing the places you knew all changed up and different.

“She was a good singer, right?” Jason asks, for lack of anything else to say.

“Yeah,” Nico agrees, “She’d sing in the evenings, and draw in all sorts of crowds. Me and Bianca would come, and I’d read some stupid comic while we listened.”

He sounds heartbreakingly wistful. They move on. 

They cross another bridge, and Nico freezes, stock still. And then he’s running.

“Nico, wait a sec,” Jason tries to say, but Nico either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care. Jason has no choice but to run after him or be left behind, and he would rather not get lost here. Nico weaves in between people, small enough that he doesn’t have to say a thousand _excuse me’s_ every time he bumps into someone. 

Jason turns the corner behind him, and has to dig his heel into the ground so he doesn’t run into him where he’s stopped, stone-still and silent. 

Nico is staring straight ahead.

There’s no house. 

Jason’s heart sinks.

There’s a building, tall and stone, with words that Jason still can’t read ‘cause they’re still in Italian, but there’s no little house with cobblestone steps and two windows with rounded glass.

Nico had been expecting _this_ more than he’d been expecting it to still be there, Jason knows that. He knows it must still hurt. He very carefully doesn’t look Nico in the face; puts an arm over his shoulder, light enough for him to shake it off. He doesn’t. 

He feels Nico’s shoulders rise and fall in a deep sigh, feels him cross his arms, and then he shakes him off and spins on his heel and starts walking back the way they came.

“Nico,” Jason says, with no thought to what he’s gonna say next - don’t you want to look inside? Don’t you wanna know what it is now? See what happened to the space you left behind?

“It’s gone,” Nico says, voice hard, “I knew it was gonna be gone. I was just making sure - and I made sure, so.”

Jason can’t bring himself to ask. He doesn’t know if he would want to see what the world made out of the place he grew up in, if he remembered it the same fond way Nico did. 

He glances back one last time at the place Nico’s house used to be; imagines it the way he’s heard it described, imagines a little Nico he can’t really picture quite right - he’s never known him as anyone else other than the person he is now, can’t imagine him any other way - and imagines a sister and a mother and something warm, and then turns to follow him. 

It’s not his to imagine, and if Nico doesn’t want to try, then Jason won’t either.

They end up in a little cafe, more tucked away than the last one they were in. They sit in a corner, and Nico orders for them both in quick Italian, and then doesn’t say anything else. Nico stares at the table, and Jason stares out the window, and doesn’t know what to say or how exactly to say it if he did. 

“Sorry,” Nico says, breaking the silence and making Jason jump just a bit. 

“For what?” he says dumbly.

“For. You know, for all this - for dragging you all the way out here. You were busy, and I made you come all the way here for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothing,” Jason starts, but Nico cuts him off.

“Yes, it was! There’s nothing there - I knew there wasn’t gonna be,” he takes a breath, still won’t look up, “I knew it was gonna be gone, I knew it was, ‘cause it was one house like seventy years ago, but I still hoped it might not be. It’s stupid, this was all so stupid. I don’t know why I… I don’t know what I was thinking.”

The silence isn’t quite silence - it’s a busy city, just outside the shop - but it’s heavy anyways. 

“Nico,” Jason says, with no thought to what he’s gonna say next, but this time he keeps going anyways. “It’s not stupid to want to see the place you grew up.”

“It is if you grew up there a century ago.”

“I don’t think it is. Even if you thought it was gonna be gone, it’s not stupid to make sure. What if it wasn’t gone, and you just never came to check?”

“Then it would still be there, and it wouldn’t matter either way ‘cause everyone I knew here is dead anyways. They’re all dead, and it’s all gone. It was stupid to come.”

Jason thinks about the life he doesn’t remember living; everyone he thought he knew, and not quite knowing them anymore. Everything changes; it’s just a bit fucking awful when everything changes, and you’re left behind wondering what happened.

“Just ‘cause it’s gone doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth coming,” when Nico doesn’t say anything, still doesn’t lift his head, Jason leans back against the booth. “I had fun. I’m glad you brought me along.”

“You had better things to be doing,” Nico argues, like he can somehow decide whether or not Jason is telling the truth. It’s as difficult as it is sad.

“Like what, planning my fortieth shrine?”

“Or your forty-first,” Nico says, but his voice isn’t as tight as it was, and neither are his shoulders.

“I’m glad you asked me to come,” Jason says, trying to hide his relief, “And I’m glad I came. I had fun just getting here. It’s about the journey, not the destination, right?”

“Who says that?”

“I dunno, like everybody? It’s a saying.”

“Stupid saying. If you can shadow travel everywhere, the journey’s like thirty seconds long.”

Jason doesn’t shoot back something about how it’s probably used more for metaphors about life, or something, because he knows Nico’s trying to derail. 

“Thank you for asking me to come,” he says seriously, putting his hand down over one of Nico’s, “It means a lot to me, even if it doesn’t to you.”

Nico finally, finally looks up at him, mouth pressed into a thin line, eyebrows furrowed like he’s trying to be upset but can’t. He lets out a long breath that seems to rattle his little frame, shake his little bird bones - admittance of defeat, or at the very least, acceptance.

“Gods,” he breathes, “You’re welcome, I guess. It’s doesn’t… mean nothing to me that you’re here.”

Jason lets himself smile, catching the boy’s eye again, “Good to hear.”

Nico opens his mouth to say something else, probably something grouchy or derailing, but instead leans back, snatching his hand away as the waitress places their drinks in front of them. Nico mumbles a small _grazie_ , which Jason echoes, and then they’re left alone again. Jason tries not to miss Nico’s hand under his, and warms them up around the cup instead.

“Thank you,” Nico says, once Jason is halfway through his tea - green, like he told Nico he liked, and it makes him like, almost shockingly fond that Nico remembered. “For coming with me,” he specifies when Jason tilts his head in question.

“You’re welcome,” Jason says, smiling into his cup. If he slides his hand back over the table, just to feel Nico’s hand under his again - he’s just being a good, supportive friend, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing deeper to unpack. If Nico lets him - well, that’s just proof.

(Unofficial Step Number 6: down. Steps 4 and 5 have been locked down from the beginning. Successful Road Trip List: complete. Better than any of the movies they binged.)

They spend the better part of two hours in the cafe, letting the stress of the day wash over them and settle. He doesn’t know if Nico comes to terms with it, necessarily, but he seems to process, and lay it to rest. 

Nico tells him about the time he and his sister helped their mom make a cake — how he and Bianca had flicked flour and each other until he had accidentally hit their mom. 

“We thought she was gonna be so mad, ‘cause she was wearing one of her nicer dresses, but she just picked some up and smeared it right on my nose.” 

He smiles something soft, one knee pulled up to his chest, and Jason reaches for his cup so he doesn’t smile too widely back. 

“I’ve never made a cake from scratch,” Jason admits.

Nico looks deeply offended. “I guess that’s something else we have to do sometime.” 

“Promise you won’t get my nice clothes all dirty?”

“Just don’t wear nice clothes, stupid,” Nico huffs a laugh into his hand. 

“Promise you won’t get my normal clothes all dirty, then?”

“I’m not _that_ good at baking,” Nico says, “So no promises.”

“Isn’t Hazel’s birthday coming up?” Jason suddenly remembers, “We could make one for her.”

“Yeah,” Nico agrees, face lighting up the way it does whenever Hazel is involved, “That’s a good idea. She likes strawberry.”

“Strawberry cake, then.”

“I dunno, maybe we should buy one — I dunno if ours will turn out good enough, y’know?”

“We can practice,” Jason says, “And I bet Hazel would love it even if it was a little burned or something.”

Nico tried to hide how pleased he is in the back of his hand, but it doesn’t work. Jason tried to hide how pleased _he_ is, but he doesn’t think it works either. 

They end up bumming around town for the rest of the day, just experiencing the city. Jason convinces Nico to take some more touristy pics in front of the water, and even manages to talk him into taking a selfie with him — the camera that Leo got his hands on for him has just enough film for Pompeii, so the selfie is the last one he takes.

“If that one turned out bad, you have to delete it,” Nico tells him. 

“If it turns out bad we’ll just take another one.”

“And then delete the bad one.”

“Maybe,” Jason shrugs, “If I can figure out how.”

Nico raises an eyebrow at him, “You’re the one that’s actually from this century and you still don’t know how to use a camera? At least I have an excuse.”

Jason really has nothing to defend himself, so he doesn’t bother trying. “I’ll just ask Piper to help when we get back.” 

Nico rolls his eyes, “I’m sure you could figure out if you tried hard enough.”

Jason sighs overdramatically, “I’m too lazy.”

“You’re not too lazy to make like fifty shrines, but you are too lazy to figure out how to delete a picture off a disposable camera?”

Jason laughs, “Yeah, exactly.” 

“Lets hope the fuckin’ picture turns out good, then.” 

Eventually, the sun starts to set, and the moon starts to rise in its place. Nico’s hair looks darker at night, and his eyes look brighter. 

They stop on a bridge, Jason leaning against the stone railing, Nico propped up on his elbows. 

“My mom used to tell me about how he met my dad here,” Nico says, voice soft. 

“Hades?” 

Nico nods, “She said she ran into him one night, and that he said he had seen her sing. He told her that her voice was — she said ‘lovely and enchanting’, or something — and that he asked if she would like to go to dinner.”

“Did she say yes?”

“No,” Nico smiles softly, “She said she was busy that night, and tomorrow night. He asked if he could watch her sing again instead, and she said he could do whatever he wanted.”

It’s not a sad story, necessarily, but Nico sounds sad anyways. 

“I’m sorry,” Jason says, slipping out before he can think. 

Nico blinks up at him, “About my mom turning Hades down?”

“No, no,” Jason huffs a weak laugh, “I’m just. Sorry about… just all of this.”

“Why are you sorry about it?”

“I just want to…I dunno, make you feel better? I’m just not sure how.” 

Nico shrugs, and his smile is sad. It makes Jason sad, seeing him smile like that. He hasn’t seen Nico like this since… maybe the few days surrounding the anniversary of Bianca’s death, a month or two ago. It might not have been a good idea, in hindsight, to build this trip around the past. 

“It’s okay,” Nico says, even thought it’s not, “You. It‘s nice of you to just… be here. I was just gonna come by myself, if you said no, so I really do appreciate it.” 

Jason thinks about Nico, standing here alone on this bridge after coming all this way to see nothing, and he’s so glad that his past self had some common sense and made the right decision. 

Nico looks up at him, not hiding behind his hair or his hand. Jason thinks he might be the luckiest boy in the world. Shit. Shit. 

He thinks about Piper, and thinks about the tension, and thinks about shooting his shot. The moon is full up in the sky, and the sky is full of stars, more than they can see from either camp. 

Nico looks at him, waiting. 

Actions speak louder than words, especially to someone like Nico. Jason decides to take the plunge. 

He puts his hand on Nico’s shoulder, and leans in. Nico goes rigid against him, gasping against his lips. His hands curl around Jason’s shoulders, and then he’s pushing him away, eyes wide and furious. 

“What the fuck, Jason,” he snarls. 

Jason’s heart plummets. Shit. Was he reading it wrong the whole time? 

“Shit, Nico, I — listen — ”

“Don’t fuck around,” Nico spits, angry and sad and maybe more sad than angry. “Don’t — gods, don’t be an asshole.”

“Nico,” Jason says, voice dropping. 

“Don’t fuck with me! I don’t want you to make me _feel better_ by — it’s just — that’s _mean_. You don’t have to fake it ‘cause you feel sorry for me; that’s fucked up.”

“Nico,” Jason says again, brain just barely managing to keep up and fucking understand. Because he does, he suddenly gets it, it clicks into place and he feels complete shit, “I would never mess with you like that.”

“But you are,” He says, and he sounds so upset, voice breaking halfway through like he might cry. Soft and betrayed, all wrapped up and ready to burst.

“I’m not fucking with you,” Jason says, keeps his voice gentle. He takes Nico’s wrist, bony and small, careful in his hand. Nico moves like he wants to jerk away, but doesn’t. Jason would’ve let him, if he wanted to; he hopes that Nico knows that — needs him to know that. “I’m not, swear to gods.” 

Nico just stares at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed like he doesn’t understand what he’s seeing. Peers up at Jason and into Jason. 

“What the hell does that mean.” 

“It means,” he takes a breath, deep and steadying, feels like he has to work up the nerve again. “It means I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I like you, and I want to kiss you.”

Nico blinks, dark eyes blown wide. He looks devastated, almost. “Jason,” he whispers, “Don’t. You don’t. I don’t get it.”

Jason’s heart aches and fucking breaks and then stitches itself back up along the line that Jason traces along the curve of Nico’s jaw.

“It’s simple. I like you, so I kissed you.”

“You don’t like me,” Nico says, definitive. Final. “You can’t like me.”

“Why not?” Dead serious. 

“Because,” Nico stutters, fumbles, flustered, confused, Jason wants to wrap him up and never let go, “Because you’re. You’re — _you_ , and I’m this, and I — this isn’t. You’re so nice and you’re so good and you’re _too_ good — I’m just this, Jason. That’s it.”

“‘Just this’ is great,” Jason says, curls his fingers around the curve of Nico’s neck, his shoulders, needs him to understand, “It’s everything. You’re so good, Nico, you’re better than I — you’re funny, and kind, and you care so much, and you hate bitter coffee and you like R&B and when you hum in the car it makes me wanna hold your hand.”

Gods, but he thinks Nico really might cry, really might finally lose it. He thinks he might finally lose it himself. Feels Nico shake under his hands. 

“And I’m sorry about your house,” Jason adds weekly.

Nico is just looking at him, looking at him like he can’t believe he exists. Like it’s too good — _you’re so good and you’re too good._

“Really?” He finally, finally says.

“Yeah, of course I’m sorry.”

“Not the — I mean —“

“Of course,” Jason says. “Yeah. _Yes_ , Nico, gods. If you don’t, like, feel the same, that’s fine. It really is.”

He watches Nico swallow, feels his hands shake where he grabs at Jason’s shirt. “Of course I do, stupid, have you seen yourself?” 

Jason can’t believe it — feels this burst of something warm and happy settle in his chest, his bloodstream. Feels it flow through his veins, burning hot. 

Nico swallows again, cheeks flushing lightly — gods, but that’s adorable. “I didn’t — I didn’t ever wanna freak you out, or. Make you not wanna be my friend. It was happening all over again, and I didn’t wanna fuck it up all over again.”

“Nico, even if I didn’t — I wouldn’t stop being your friend over that.” 

Nico shakes his head, the way he did when Jason told him he didn’t like pistachio ice cream or had never thought to use his ability to shoot lightning to start a storm. 

“You’re so weird,” he says, but he doesn’t sound angry anymore, doesn’t sound sad — just confused, “You’re so…” he sighs, shakes his head again, at a loss. Leans forwards, carefully, and Jason realizes with a start that he wants to hug him but isn’t sure how to make the first move. 

Jason makes it for him. Puts an arm around his back and tugs him forwards. Nico buries his face in Jason’s chest, too short to fit into the crook of his shoulder; he feels his hands meet at the small of his back. He breathes deep; memorizes the way it feels, right now, how warm Nico is against him. 

“Hey,” he says after a moment, bowing his head. 

“Hm?” Nico hums into his shirt. 

“You wanna go find a hotel for the night? We’re kinda standing in the middle of everything.”

He doesn’t mention that there are a few people looking at them weird as they walk by, but Nico quickly untangles himself anyways. 

“Yeah,” he says, ducking his head in embarrassment. Jason slings an arm over his shoulder, as if he can protect him from everyone’s eyes, and they walk over and away from the bridge. 

The hotel they find has both a two and single bed room vacant. Nico looks up at him questioningly, and Jason genuinely doesn’t know how to answer. He doesn’t want to push for too much — doesn’t want to come on too strong, Piper’s voice ringing in his head — but he also really, really wants a repeat of this morning. 

Nico swallows, turns to the front desk clerk, and says they’ll take the room with one bed. The clerk eyes them a little weird, but doesn’t say anything. Jason snatches up the room key up, and if it’s a little aggressive, nobody mentions it. 

As soon as they close the door behind them, Nico declares that he’s gonna go take a shower, and then disappears into the bathroom. Jason sets his backpack down, sits on the bed, and tries to like, take it in. He touches one finger to his lips, and imagines that he can still feel it tingle. Their kiss was about as long and passionate as a punch to the face, but he still can’t believe it happened. 

Jason breathes in, breathes out, and gets his shit together.

“There’s still hot water left this time,” Nico says, startling Jason out of his self given pep talk. 

“Oh, thanks,” he says, standing up a little too quickly. Nico smiles at the way he almost trips over himself, and the awkward air is gone. 

“I’ll, um,” Nico clears his throat, “There’s another towel under the sink.”

“Thanks,” Jason says, and Nico pretends not to flush a little bit, and Jason pretends not to see.

After Jason’s shower, he walks out to see Nico sitting on the bed, propped up on two pillows and curled over a little book that Jason didn’t know he had.

“What book is that?” He asks.

Nico looks at the cover, and then looks up at him. “Hazel gave it to me in case I got too bored. I don’t really know what it’s about.”

“Is it any good?”

“I don’t know,” Nico admits, “I think I’ve read the same page like four times.” 

“You nervous about something?” Jason teases lightly.

“Not as nervous as you,” Nico shoots back boldly, “I saw you almost trip earlier.”

“You don’t need to call me out,” Jason says, pressing a hand against his chest, “It’s not my fault you’re cute as all hell.”

Nico can’t even pretend not to blush this time, choosing to hide behind his book instead. Jason takes the opportunity to slide under the blanket next to him — a modest, respectable distance away. 

“Nico,” He says, after moment have passed and neither of them have moved. “We don’t have to, like, do anything. We can go slow — I’m not gonna push you at all, y’know?”

“I know,” Nico says, “and I appreciate it. I’m not — well, obviously I’ve never done… this before. Whatever this is.”

“What do you want it to be?”

Nico sets the book on the bedside table and crosses his arms instead.

“I don’t know,” he says, uncharacteristically shy, “I just — well, I don’t know.”

“Nico,” Jason says carefully, testing his name out in a way he hasn’t been able to up until now, “Do you wanna be my boyfriend?”

Nico bites his lip and moves to twist the ring that’s resting on the table instead of on his finger, and swallows. 

“I mean, if you want to,” he says slowly, “then… I think so. If that’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” Jason says, “It’s like, super okay. I would be honored to be your boyfriend.” 

Nico moves his arm likes he’s going to shove him, but his hand ends up resting gingerly on Jason’s arm instead. Instinctually, Jason brings his hand up to cover Nico’s. 

Jason looks at Nico; Nico looks back at him.

“Nico?” He asks.

“Yeah?”

“Stop me if I’m going too fast, but. Would you mind if I kissed you again?”

Nico doesn’t hide behind anything — he smiles so bright Jason thinks he might go blind. “No,” he says, “I wouldn’t mind.”

Jason takes the plunge, and leans in.

The next day, they decide that they don’t really want to head back to camp quite yet. 

So, after a quick IM with Hazel, they skip Pompeii — “we can still hit it on the way back,” Nico says — and head South for France instead. 

“It’s like a honeymoon phase,” Piper says when Jason takes the opportunity to hit her up before they go, “That is so sweet.”

“Don’t call it _that_ ,” Jason says, embarrassed, “We aren’t married.” 

“Dating has a honeymoon phase,” she argues, and then softens, “I really do think it’s sweet. I’m happy for you, Sparky — told you shooting your shot would work. Hey, since you’re going to Paris, you guys should kiss on top of the Eiffel Tower.” 

Jason tells her, and then also tells himself, not to get her hopes up too high. 

(They do, however, after Jason drops a hint or two, end up doing it.)

**Author's Note:**

> so. here's the [Full Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2braiPMPJNjqJxQdUMTwgD) bc i had to listen to Something to set the mood. also miss norma bruni was a [real person](https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=200&v=fuziOlVJu18) and i stay loving the idea of nico's mom being a great singer. come [complain](http://gaynasas.tumblr.com/) abt all the inaccuracies i got wrong by googling 'cities in italy' and 'famout italian restaurants' and leaving it at that 
> 
> pls comment to save my life, im starting college like. rly soon and im stressed!


End file.
